


Ghosts of the Past

by junko



Series: Senbonzakura's Song [44]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Dubious Consent, M/M, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:10:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2740391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji heads to the sento for a bath and is accosted by Byakuya's ex, Isoroku.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you complaining there wasn't a lot of tension... well.
> 
> :-)
> 
> Minor spoiler warning... though I'm not sure you'll even catch it, if you're not caught up.

The attendant at the Kuchiki hot springs took Renji’s money and went back to double-check that the place was empty, leaving Renji standing there feeling vaguely robbed, like maybe the guy was planning on running off with his four hundred and fifty ken. 

“C’mon, seriously, I stink,” Renji muttered when it seemed to be taking forever.

Ducking back through the curtain, the attendant bobbed an apologetic bow. Holding out Renji’s money, he stammered, “Sorry, sir. There’s a nobleman in the sentō.”

Renji glared at the money in the shaking, outstretched hand. He should probably take it, let the attendant off the hook, but he really, seriously needed a bath. “Just one? Can’t you ask him if he could just, I don’t know, avert his eyes or something? I mean for crying out loud, it’s not like my tattoos are contagious!”

The attendant glanced, first at the list of rules on the wall, and then back at Renji. Just when Renji was sure he was going to be asked to leave, the attendant tucked the money into the box. “It’s just one, as you say, sir. You are the lieutenant, after all.” As the attendant went around to unlock the door, he muttered a conspiratorial aside, “He’s not even a Kuchiki.” 

Renji snorted a little laugh at that. Saved by class for once, how ironic.

Finding a cubby, Renji set Zabimaru aside and quickly stripped out of his stinky clothes. Sniffing them, he nearly coughed. They were seriously rank. Good thing he’d stopped by the quartermasters on the way and picked up a fresh uniform to change into. He set the new one on a top shelf. It was still wrapped in paper, so it should be fine despite the steam. 

Grabbing his toiletries, Renji gave himself a thorough scrubbing under the shower. He shampooed his hair twice, because he’d had to stick it up all sweaty and gross. 

In no time, he felt nearly human again. He considering calling that good enough and foregoing the soak, but then he felt the slight pull of muscle—a little strain from the earlier sparring session with Byakuya. Yeah, why waste the opportunity? His body would thank him later.

The sento was so quiet Renji thought maybe whoever’d been here earlier had finished up and snuck past him somehow. He lowered himself into to the hot water. Stretching his arms along the length of the lip of the pool, he laid his head back. With a happy sigh, he closed his eyes.

He must have drifted a little, because he never heard the approach—until someone’s fingers tweaked his nipple.

Instinct had his fist curled around the narrow wrist with crushing force, his other reared back ready to grab or hit as soon as he got his bearings. His eyes snapped open to see the pink-haired Isoroku.

Renji glanced down at the hand on his nipple and glanced back up to the unapologetic face of Isoroku. 

Loosening his grip a little because it wouldn’t do to break the guy’s arm even if the creeper deserved it, Renji gripped the lip of the pool with his free hand and asked, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You may have bruised me. I could scream.”

“What?!”

Fingers manipulated Renji’s nipple lightly, teasingly, as Isoroku continued, “I heard you attacked the young heir only a few hours ago. You and I are alone. If I said you assaulted me, I would be believed, wouldn’t I, Lieutenant?”

Isoroku’s other hand reached for Renji’s cheek, but Renji grabbed it. 

“More bruises?” Isoroku sounded amused by all this. “And both wrists? My, my, that will never do, Lieutenant. It’ll look like you held me up against the wall.”

“Fuck,” Renji snarled, letting go. Assaulting a nobleman? The Division might not buy it, but Byakuya’s family sure would… and Byakuya, too. He’d been quick enough to assume the worst about the heir. That would end Renji’s career fast. And, depending on what Isoroku claimed, his life.

Renji raised his hands for peace. They trembled with the effort not to strike out as Isoroku’s fingers continued to pull at nipple. Though his touch sent spikes of pain/pleasure shooting through Renji the water was far too hot and his balls were far too busy trying to crawl back inside his body for Renji to feel anything but disgust. He tried not to flinch as Isoroku stroked the short hairs of his sideburns with the back of his fingers. Skin crawling, Renji pressed hard into the bath’s wall. “C’mon, man,” he begged gruffly. “Don’t.”

“Oh, don’t look like that. I won’t spoil you. I just want a little taste of what Bya-chan has,” Isoroku said. 

Isoroku’s hair was undone, and it hung in long, limp pink strands. His body was lean and slender, almost gaunt, reminding Renji of that mad scientist Espada that he’d tried so desperately to defeat, but couldn’t--the one that broke him, literally, and smiled while he tortured him and Ishida. That image made Renji’s stomach tighten. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Isoroku drew close and Renji’s whole body went rigid. But rather than press an unwanted kiss on him, the nobleman stopped, his hand leaving Renji’s nipple to slide down the wet expanse of Renji’s chest and stomach. Into Renji’s ear, he said, “You are indeed a prize. I see why Byakuya stoops so low. Your tattoos are truly beautiful. So wild and primal. I want to see them all. Turn around.”

Turn around? Expose his back, his ass?

“I can’t,” Renji said. Though his voice was shallow and lost, something inside began to rise… howling. Something old crawled up, hissing and spitting, from a thousand dirty, desperate Inuzuri alleys. A memory of the moment when Renji realized the guy telling him to get on his knees was… smaller.

“If you won’t, I’ll screa—“ 

Isoroku didn’t get to finish his sentence before Renji’s hand flashed to cover his mouth. With a shattering reiatsu, he spun them both around, slamming Isoroku’s body into the wall. “Breathe, motherfucker, and I’ll rip your lungs out. You want me to go down for assault? I say: think bigger. Why not go in for murder?”

The nobleman paled, his eyes rolling up into his head, as a cloud of something yellowish polluted the sento’s waters. 

Isoroku fainted. 

Renji removed his hand, only to have to put it back to keep Isoroku from sliding, limply underwater. 

The demon haze cleared in an instant. Renji’d fully intended to kill the nobleman, and now… now he had a serious conundrum. Because there was a purpling bruise on Isoroku’s wrist, probably he’d have a nice mark or two on his back, too. He could still make his claim against Renji. 

Renji stood there for a few seconds, shaking as steam dripped from his hair, seriously weighing the merits of bashing the bastard’s head in anyway, and burying the body in the Kuchiki gardens.

The thing that stopped Renji was the very thing that seemed like it could be a solution, too. 

Too many eyes.

Too many people watching.

“Oi,” Renji shouted to the attendant, “How much of this did you see, anyway?”

“Not much, sir,” came the tremulous voice. “But I know what he did… was asking for.”

Good enough.

“Get someone from the Fourth, would you?” Renji said. “My reiatsu could have damaged him for real. I had…” a panic attack? Accurate, but Renji opted for, “..a little PTS. I don’t think I was holding back.”

“I’ll have my son fetch someone,” he said. “He’s just across the street. He works cleaning the izakaya.”

“Perfect,” Renji said, not really wanting to be alone with Isoroku too long, in case he woke up and Renji felt an overwhelming desire to murder him again. “Hurry.”

Even though the last thing he wanted to do was touch this guy, Renji lifted Isoroku into his arms. If he left him in the sento, he’d drown… or at the very least overheat. Carrying him up the steps, Renji looked around for a good place to set him down. It was tempting to just leave him on the tiles, but Renji set him down on one of the benches instead. 

“To think I kind of liked you and felt sorry for you,” Renji snarled at Isoroku. Isoroku’s eyelids fluttered at the sound, like he might wake up, so Renji added, “Don’t you dare do a runner, you piece of shit; I’m going to go get dressed.”

The attendant was back at any rate, bringing towels to cover Isoroku with and prop up his head. Renji left them and went into the changing room. Suddenly, his knees gave out and, failing to catch himself on the wall, Renji slumped to the floor. 

A ragged breath jittered out as the shakes overwhelmed him. He had to take a moment to hold his head between his knees. It was the imaginary long nails of Szayelaporro Granz touching him now, delicately tracing across check and down his neck, but he shook off the sensation with a growl.

Zabimaru echoed it, reminding Renji that he’d feel a whole lot better in uniform with his zanpakutō at his side.

He pulled himself upright with a groan. Best look presentable, too, because he was going to have to pray Isoroku wasn’t right.

But, the attendant said he heard what Isoroku was after.

As long as that didn’t get twisted up, Renji’d be okay.

#

Renji had just slid Zabimaru into place when there was a polite, but firm voice from the other side of the blue curtain. “Lieutenant Abarai, may I intrude?”

There was no mistaking the matronly voice of Captain Unohana. 

“Ma’am?” Renji hadn’t been expecting the captain to come herself. And so fast. The attendant’s son must have gone to the Sixth. The Division must have sent someone with flashstep to the Fourth. That meant Byakuya couldn’t be far behind.

Unohana pulled aside the curtain cautiously. She smiled beatifically when she saw Renji was fully dressed and in uniform. He hadn’t had time to do anything with his hair, but if it shocked her, she didn’t show it. Then again, Renji reminded himself, she’d seen him with his hair down before, when she’d healed him in the guardhouse, after Ichigo’s Getsuga Tensho blast. “The young man said something about post-traumatic stress? Are you all right?”

Ah, that’s why she’d come. In case they’d had to wrangle him, put him down for going rabid. Great. That didn’t bode well for his case. He wasn’t going to look much like the victim if they sent a captain to make sure he wasn’t out of control.

Something like this would have to happen on the same damn day the whole estate was gossiping about how he’d pushed Shinobu up against the wall.

Everything was out of control, it seemed. 

He was twice Isoroku’s size, a hundred thousand times more powerful. No one was going to believe a fucking word he said.

Should’ve buried the body.

“Your reiatsu, Lieutenant,” Unohana admonished. “Anger is a common response to a flashback, but please try to control it.”

“I ain’t angry; I’m upset,” Renji said, managing to tamp down the roiling mix of shame and frustration in his gut. Releasing the fists he hadn’t even realized he was making, he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Though, I think I got every right to be plenty pissed off. I don’t know what else got said, but that--“ Renji stopped himself from using a derogatory term for Isoroku by clamping down on his teeth and counting to ten. Even though he knew he should use the most respectful term possible, all he could manage was, “—person started it.”

Unohana’s face was serious. She stepped all the way into the room now, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her haori. “Yes. I should have asked after your health first thing, but I wanted to make absolutely certain you weren’t suffering from any aftershocks.”

She believed him? Renji’s shoulders started to relax when he heard a commotion from the sento. Isoroku was screeching about something, Renji could only make out the words ‘beast’ and ‘bruises.’ Same old shit that always got hurled at him. Cripes any moment the bastard would be saying Renji was a dirty dog.

Fuckers needed a new playbook.

Unohana’s eyes followed Renji’s gaze. Calmly, she said, “Isane will deal with that one. Let’s see to you.”

Slumping down onto the bench in front of the cubbies, Renji hung his head. He stared at his hands, clasped between his knees. Huge, powerful hands—scarred and calloused by a thousand fights. 

“He didn’t hurt me,” Renji said. “How could he? But, he was… taking liberties, and said he’d make it out like it was me, if I didn’t—ah, fuck, I should’ve just let him take what he wanted. It’s not like what I’ve got is precious or nothing I didn’t give away a long time ago.” Glancing up briefly in the direction of the sento, Renji let out a breath before dropping his head again. “I can’t deny I pushed him, Captain. I might’ve broken his wrist, too. But, if he’s saying I’ve done more, he’s a bald faced liar.”

Hands settled strongly on Renji’s shoulders. “What you have is very precious, Lieutenant Abarai. You are the honor and pride of the Sixth Division. No one, no matter their status, dare even attempt to sully such a thing. If they have, they will have the full force of the Gotei Thirteen to reckon with. Do you understand?”

She might be just a healer, but Unohana sounded like a general, making a call to battle. The spirit of her words lifted Renji’s head and he said, “Yes, ma’am!”

“There’s my lad,” she said, giving his shoulders a pat. “We all have pasts, Lieutenant. You’re one of us now; we take care of our own.”

It was like Kenpachi was talking instead of Unohana. 

Renji nodded, because this was a familiar motto and one he firmly believed in. “I can’t help thinking Bya—Captain Kuchiki ain’t going to feel the same way. That’s his ex-lover out there what pushed me into the corner.”

“I see.” Unohana’s voice was cold, intense. Giving him one last shoulder squeeze, Unohana headed out the front door with a cheerful, yet weirdly threatening, “We shall have to be certain Byakuya remembers his first loyalty is to the Gotei, won’t we?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Josey as usual for typo and general beta-awesomeness.


End file.
